You know when your neighbor stops you and says, “Haha, if you don’t like the weather just wait ten minutes!” and chuckles quietly as he pats himself on the back? It doesn’t matter where you live, two things are guaranteed: One, you have weird neighbors. Two, everyone everywhere thinks their state has the strangest weather. Turns out, unless you live in New England, your neighbor is dead wrong. Also you should probably keep an eye on him. Trouble brewing there if I ever saw it.
Now, I have stories out the whazoo about New England weather. There was the time our house got lifted off its foundation and replaced slightly off-center by a gust of wind. My parents’ trampoline once got blown twenty feet up a tree and bent in half, also by a gust of wind. Some time later, my grandparents lost a two-story barn door and their best maple sap producer to, well, a gust of wind. It’s pretty windy here. But that whole “wait ten minutes” business is not truer anywhere else in the States than here in the Northeast.
This week started at eighty degrees. On Tuesday it snowed. This afternoon our grass turned green. The following photos are all from a single day, within a few hours.
I got off the bus at the Champlain College campus, because it’s gorgeous and also I go to school there.
After my morning class, I walked home to get ready for a lunch date.
That morning’s high was twenty degrees with a biting wind. It’s practically tropical compared to the thirty below of this past winter, but still, it’s spring. I was sweating bullets on Monday, and now I’m bundling up before venturing into the frozen tundra beyond my apartment. It’s nuts.
On a more positive note, check out this art I made:
As I walked back downtown for lunch, I passed the University of Vermont:
Keep in mind I took these photos well after the snow had stopped. Even though it was cold, the sun was intense and many patches had already begun to melt. We didn’t get buckets of the stuff, but based on the previous night’s exploits I’d guess there was a solid inch on the ground. We also had copious amounts of ice, which I got up close and personal with several times.
The UVM campus is absolutely massive. It covers probably a good half of Burlington and the surrounding towns. The path I take into town goes straight through the heart of the school. Here are some of the dorms.
I love taking pictures of this intersection. I have no idea why. I have like a hundred of them.
Much as I love the architecture of Champlain, UVM is truly awe-inspiring. Check this business out:
Looking down towards the lake:
Check out these sweet dorms:
This is not a dorm:
I got arty with a bush next to the apartment building.
My boyfriend’s apartment:
We went out for Chinese to celebrate the end of his student teaching episode. He’s now just days away from becoming a certified teacher. No jokes here, just pride.
By the time we rolled our bloated bellies out of there, the snow was almost gone.
As I walked home through my suddenly snowless surroundings, I noticed that not only had the scenery changed, but it was at least twenty degrees warmer than when I walked downtown.
I took some pictures at the same angle as my earlier ones:
New England doesn’t have seasons, it has hourly temperaments. I really can’t stress enough how truly weird it is to have snow in the morning, and walk home sweating in the sun just hours later. We even had green grass.
You remember that snow-covered school from earlier? Well, here it is by the end of the day.
What the hell.
Check back for the exciting conclusion of the Snow Blown series whenever I get around to writing it.